c o n f i d a n t
by clmeeni
Summary: The first time he saw it happen she pleaded that he keep quiet. So he did.
1. Chapter 1

The summer night was still young but far too late for him to be out with friends at this hour. Having felt guilty for needing to cancel another outing with Nino he told him that tomorrow, even though he had fittings all evening, they could register and play the new MMO that would be in open beta. It was as good a promise as it was going to get. It's not that his schedule was so jam-packed he didn't have leisure time—in fact he wouldn't start getting busy until the start of fall—it was that their schedules just didn't mesh. Nino had gotten a part-time job to start saving up, and it just so happened that his days off were pretty sparse.

" _I don't know how you normally do it, man."_

" _Do what?"_

" _Juggle that massive schedule of yours!"_

" _That's Nathalie's job, Nino."_

Chat smiled at the memory, fond as he propelled himself across another alley. Having been cooped up all day got him all kinds of stir crazy, but his texts with Marinette kept him occupied while watching television with Plagg. Over the last couple years, the two of them had steadily been forming a stronger friendship. They wound up having similar classes and sitting next to each other when they didn't recognize any faces at the start of the year. Their interactions were pleasant and as his restrictions lessened he could go hang out with her more often.

Over the last month or so he'd been noticing her face screwing up in pain, and she'd simply reassured him that it was just a sore throat.

" _The constant weather change is not kind to me is all, nothing to worry about."_

The following day he brought her cough drops, and apparently, she found it so funny it tickled her into a coughing fit. Adrien had his suspicions but she insisted that she was okay and that he was sweet for being so concerned. He had taken her word despite the overwhelming need to hover, and wished her well.

He winced at the memory, sticking another landing before coming to a full stop.

Surveying the area, he saw the Notre Dame not too far off and hummed to himself, debating if he should check up on Marinette. Just this last week he's noticed her becoming lethargic and, if he didn't know any better, her clumsiness seemed to have returned. The other day he had to prevent Marinette from braining herself on a lamppost when they'd gone to meet up with Alix and Max. Now that he was chewing on the memory maybe it was a good idea to go pay her a visit…

Pursing his lips, he began moving with purpose.

Moments later as Chat Noir landed on Marinette's balcony he quickly realized that his visit didn't need an excuse. On the ground he found the designer curled up beside herself in pain, smothering herself as she tried to suppress her coughing. Not wasting any time, he began to sit her upright—to which she began to shove and push him as if fighting off an attacker.

"Hey, hey! Princess, it's me!" Chat gently restrained her by her arms, and almost immediately Marinette stopped resisting him and settled herself against his side.

It looked like he caught her during whatever it was she was hiding from him, based on the tissue she was trying to discreetly fold up—unfortunately for her, he already saw the blood staining the fabric. It took her a moment to compose herself but eventually, she found the courage to look up at him. It would be a sweet death to drown in her deep blues he realized, but his eyes wandered to another spackling of blue. Clinging to her lips were small blue and bloodied flower petals, and with it a rush of memories he'd long since locked away.

 _Suddenly he was a young boy again, standing outside his father's office with a million questions blasting around his head. There was so much he wanted to ask, so much he wanted to understand but couldn't just then, yet there he was. Nathalie — freshly promoted to full-time nanny — was fussing over him, fixing and adjusting his clothing needlessly as she thought over what to tell him. He just really wished she'd say it already._

" _Adrien, your father isn't feeling well today and needs his rest."_

 _The adult version of no kids allowed, or keep out, or this doesn't concern you. But her palpable stress only served to grate against his already sensitive nerves. Adrien began to hiccup as he tried to suppress his tears, Nathalie stiffening up as she visibly became uncomfortable with what was happening. He'd give her brownie points for trying, but he could be given the world just then and it wouldn't save his tears. As he stood there in the foyer crying and curling away from Nathalie's attempts at soothing, he felt his world crumbling at his feet. It was then that he realized that it wasn't that he didn't understand, it was that he didn't want to understand._

Chat mindlessly reached forward and brushed his thumb against the corner of her mouth, swiping at the — what he now identified — forget-me-not. The small flower clung onto his digit as emotions seemed to hold onto his heart with a vice grip. He wasn't sure what was going on around him but apparently, he was visibly panicking. One moment he was burning holes into the damned bud, the next he had hands on his cheeks redirecting his gaze back to Marinette's sad blues.

"Breathe."

His lungs seemed to agree, thanking him as he gasped a lungful of air. There was a pressure in the back of his mind, and an insatiable itch to just _do_ something, and suddenly he just couldn't get _enough_ air. Chat Noir, one-part Parisian duo, was trying to pick himself up while simultaneously unraveling on his friend's rooftop. Fortunately for him she didn't seem perturbed by this and sat there with him, much like he did for her the day he handed her cough drops, running soothing hands up and down his arms. Was he staring? He was staring. Her mouth was moving he figured he should probably be listening.

"—ay, I'm okay. Kitty, please."

Okay? Marinette was _okay_?

Chat barked a laugh, and one laugh lead to another… and another… before finally he rocked forward, resting his head on her shoulder as he failed to suppress his hysteria. This isn't _funny_. He wasn't sure if he was telling that to himself or if he meant to tell her that, but he realized with abrupt horror that he'd been _crying_. Marinette didn't speak anymore, just kept the repetition of running her hands up and down his arms as the mass of leather in her arms slowly reassembled itself back into something akin to Chat Noir.

Abruptly, he sat up and looked her dead in the eye ready to give her a piece of his mind for withholding something this important, but she insisted on having the first word.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Chat shut his jaw with an audible click all while his nerves screamed at him to do something, anything. But years of modeling made him almost immune to their demands, instead, he burned. But he wouldn't take it out on Marinette. His anger was not at her, no. Never her. It was with the damn disease crawling around inside her lungs. Was it possible to cataclysm a disease?

But to have her tell him outright that she didn't want to talk about it, that she was shutting him out, it hurt. Chat — Adrien — wasn't about to relive that again. Flashes of his father in pain, hiding where he thought no one would see, were replaced with fabricated images of Marinette writhing in pain. In her bed, alone. Passed out in the stalls at University. Swaying dangerously in the subway. The itch to do something increased exponentially and he needed to scratch.

With a sigh, he resigned himself to begging and gave her the biggest kitten eyes he could muster, all while trying to not crawl out of his skin. Marinette visibly shied away, looking anywhere but him. That wouldn't do, he needed her to look at him if it was going to work. Pushing just a little bit further he gently laid his hand over top of hers and dared to bare his heart a little more.

"Listen, Marinette, you mean… so much to me," he begged. Brushing his thumb against her hand, taking his own free one and gently — carefully so as to not startle her — he turned her head so that he could look her in the eye, "and I only want to do what I can for you. Please—for me—talk to me."

When Marinette gave in and sighed he suppressed the urge to celebrate.

"I, I don't know what you want me to say. You saw it, you very clearly know what it is based on your reaction—which I'm sorry by the way—but what is there to say? I have magical flowers growing and weaving their way around my lungs?" she was rambling now that he got her to open up, but now she was also gesticulating wildly and he had to back up from her trajectory, "I mean he very clearly isn't interested in me if he's talking to me about this other girl, it's not like I've been pining after him for the last five years! It's not like I haven't been trying to win him over, it's not like I haven't been trying."

Chat watched her as she ranted and ranted, pouring her heart out. He watched her as she visibly wilted in front of him, her very obviously suppressed tears pooling at the corners of her eyes spilled over. She either didn't notice or didn't care, but he figured it was her turn. When she finally stopped flailing her hands around he pulled her to close and cradled her head to his chest.

What felt like an eternity later, in reality only a few minutes later, she stopped sobbing into him. He kept cradling her dead weight, carding his fingers through her hair as he rocked her back and forth.

"Please don't tell anyone."

"I won't."

"I don't want to lose my ability to love, Chat."

"You won't."

"I don't want to die."

A beat.

"You won't."


	2. Chapter 2

He couldn't figure out what was noisiest that morning; Plagg, his alarm, or his thoughts.

Adrien decided to settle on the latter, rightfully so, but his irate kwami quickly took over by throwing the mobile at his charge's head. A typical morning for one Adrien Agreste. Wincing, he plucked the device off his head to silence it. One nuisance out of the way, two to go. Robotically he sat up slowly, not sure if he even slept since he'd been catatonic for most of the night. Going through the motions he got his day started by silencing two out of three with a wedge of camembert. Padding over to the bathroom he took his time brushing his teeth, thinking of last night.

"Five years, huh…"

How was Marinette still alive? Wasn't hanahaki disease supposed to be this parasitic version of pulmonary disease? Some stupid wax poetic about love dripped overtop a very real, very fatal, condition that would kill the victim slowly and painfully. Adrien glared at himself in the mirror, brushing a little more roughly than necessary to clean his teeth, but he was too upset with the universe right then to care.

He wasn't stupid, he knew enough about the condition to know surgery could guarantee her survival but…

Resting his hands on the counter, he spat into the sink, thinking of his father and what he went through before and after his own surgery; what happened all those years ago when his mother vanished. As Gabriel was now he was just a shell of his former self, filling a hole with excessive amounts of work to cope. His passion was aflame but expressed in hostile tongue, lacerating anyone who he felt jeopardized his career. As he swished the mouthwash around in his mouth Adrien thought of Marinette who loved with everything she had and was always there for those in need. He thought of her future career, and how deeply in love with fashion she was. How deeply she identified with the hobby turned part-time job, a little online boutique that he and Alya have been promoting here and there.

Then he asked himself the million-dollar question… Who was Marinette in love with? Who was it that she'd been trying to win over for far too long? She was one of the most influential people in his life, constantly encouraging him to pursue his passions and being a steady shoulder to lean on in his exhaustion. Marinette had such a strong, beautiful, personality-how had she not won them over yet? Hell, he was won over and he was struck with the sudden revelation that he didn't know what his life would be like without her. Ever since he met her she'd always been a constant, and he always knew she'd be there just like the sun would rise come morning. There was an uncomfortable twisting in his chest, a painful realization that he wasn't sure if he wanted to ruminate over anymore.

Throughout the rest of his morning routine, he neglected to look directly at himself in the mirror.

During breakfast Nathalie gave him the rundown of his schedule for the day as he picked at his fruit. When all he responded with were noncommittal noises she dared to lower her tablet to get a good look at her employer's son. Adrien tried to quickly correct his expression and posture, he wasn't about to have this discussion with his father later-he's far too old to be putting up with his scare tactics anymore-but Nathalie saw through his facade, giving him a pointed look.

"If there are any problems with the schedule you are more than capable of letting me know, Adrien."

He sighed, "Yes, Nathalie."

His caretaker surveyed the room, then checked the time and hummed audibly as her fingers drummed the underside of her tablet. "We need to beat traffic if we're to make our appointment on time, so we'll finish this conversation in the car."

Adrien polished off what little food he could stomach that morning, following Nathalie to the car waiting for him outside. Honestly, he didn't see why he had to go to Agreste headquarters to get fitted, when the designer of his outfits lived with him. He suppressed an eye roll as he slid into the vehicle, waiting on Nathalie to prompt him to speak as she always did when she saw through him.

"I'm no counselor-"

"Nope."

"-but if you have anything on your mind," she paused, giving him another pointed look that dared him to say otherwise, "then I'll do my best to help work you through it."

Adrien stared out the window as they began to pull away, debating just how much he could tell her. Nathalie was Gabriel's eyes and ears when it came to all things his son, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to see that hollow look in his father's eyes. Adrien had once tried talking to Gabriel about how cruel he was being to his employees, how he was never like this, but instead received a tongue lashing. When Gabriel glared at Adrien from across the designer's desk there was an emptiness to his gaze that sent chills down Adrien's spine.

He bit the bullet.

"A friend of mine might need surgery soon."

"If you tell me their appointments I can rearrange your-"

"It's the disease father had."

If it wasn't for the soft purr of the engine the interior of the car would have been deafeningly quiet. Nathalie's countenance became grim at the sudden subject, and against company policy - to his great surprise - she turned her tablet off. Icey blues met green in what he realized was her undivided attention. Adrien turned to look at the Gorilla in the rearview mirror and even his stoic expression was marred with concern. They both knew how important his friends were to him, and the model couldn't help the watery smile.

"What stage?"

That got his attention- how many stages were there? Wincing he glanced back over to his caretaker and shrugged his shoulders, "I… don't know? She doesn't exactly know that I know. I, uh, caught her coughing up petals the other day. I'm just so confused, I only know a little based on what happened with father." He was wringing his hands, letting all his model composure go out the window now that he felt safe talking about it.

Pursing her lips Nathalie drummed her fingers against her tablet before speaking again, lowering her gaze away from his eyes, "Your friend seems to be in the later stages, unfortunately."

He felt a shift in the temperature of the car, and it was hard to breathe all the sudden. The movement of the car wasn't helping settle his nerves, but he settled on answering as robotically as he could. Nodding his head, he shelved the information away for later. He didn't think he'd be able to compose himself in time for his fitting if he thought too hard on Marinette… passing away.

"How… how does one even get hanahaki?" he stared at his open palms, tracing the lines of his hands with his eyes to keep him grounded.

"It's hereditary, actually."

Adrien snapped his head up in alarm, to which Nathalie raised her hand up to silence him before he could speak.

"You've been undergoing tests for years, thanks to your father. Your physician was asked to keep an eye on you every check-up. The gene seems to have skipped you, you're safe."

He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding, finding the sudden buzz in his nerves both stimulating and exhausting. When it looked like he had calmed down enough she continued, "Your friend could be rid of her illness if she got the plant removed-"

Adrien shuddered.

"-but I'm sure you are aware that she won't be the walking embodiment of love manifest once she's off the table," he had a feeling she knew which friend he was talking about at this point, considering he only had a few female friends he kept in touch with, "and in the absence of love her other emotions will intensify."

His father's anger went unsaid.

"If… her love was returned then would she live?" Adrien looked at her hopefully, his ring biting into his skin as he fisted his hands in his lap.

"If both she and the object of her affections came to a mutual understanding, then yes. It's not quite as easy as the other person coming to the realization that they love her, though."

"Really?"

She nodded, "No one is quite sure how it works, just that it does, but the only way the plant will recede is if the patient has a physical manifestation of their love being reciprocated. A confession, a love letter, a kiss, so on and so forth."

There was a long pause in the conversation as she gave Adrien time to process the information she unloaded onto him. The model was thankful for the silence for once, mindlessly watching as Nathalie checked her watch and turned her tablet back on. They must be nearing headquarters. While a lot of this had to deal with Marinette, there was still something tickling the back of his mind…

"Nathalie, if father had married mother then why did he have to have surgery?"

A grunt from the front cut into the conversation as the vehicle came to a stop.

"It seems we've arrived."

 _So much for that_ , he thought grimly.


	3. Chapter 3

"Excellent!"

Adrien blunk the spots away from his eyes as he turned from the sun.

Upon entering Gabriel Headquarters, he felt a niggling at the back of his mind telling him that the schedule Nathalie told him this morning at breakfast was a load of bull. That's just how these fittings went. Nathalie had, not even five minutes in, been notified of a change in plans. Something about not meeting a deadline if they waited for the weather to clear, and so there he had been risking his eyesight so that their photographer could achieve that perfect halo effect.

However, now that their photographer was satisfied the assistants were bustling around somewhere behind Adrien packing away their materials. The model pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, really wishing that he could just go home so that he could have some time alone to think. It had been hard to look wistfully at the sun when all he wanted to do was curl up around his friend protectively and hover. The impromptu photoshoot had, much to everyone's disliking, gone on much longer than normal because he was struggling to stay focused; his mind would wander, and so would his expressions.

' _This is for the fall line… Marinette is going to lose her head when she sees the prints — she'll be alive to see the fall line right? — Of course, she will be. You said that she wouldn't die, Noir'_

Adrien spent the earlier part of the shoot trying to catch Nathalie's eyes, but she firmly kept her icy blues glued to her tablet. This only served to irritate both himself and the photographer. He couldn't help it though. The boy felt his mind hopping from Marinette to his father, to Nathalie, Marinette again, then his mother.

' _Did mother not love father? Did she really just go missing or did she just leave?'_

Did she intend to leave Adrien, too?

There was a sharp pang in his chest and suddenly he didn't want to dwell on those questions anymore. Perhaps that was Nathalie's earlier intentions by deflecting him in the car. During his break, Plagg might have complained but it didn't last long when he realized his holders' attentions were off elsewhere. After spending the rest of his evening finishing up his fitting he was escorted home inside a high-tension vehicle. The amount of ping-pong they played with their glances at each other would have been enough to make anyone dizzy.

The first order of business when he finally got home was to check his phone for any missed messages. There were—oops—many missed messages he realized with a wince. Adrien's nerves surged to life when he saw quite a few from Marinette, and while there may have been some from Nino he told himself those could wait until he sees what she was up to. Heart in his throat he opened her window only to about drop the mobile before pressing the edge of it to his forehead. _You're freaking out over nothing, she's fine. She's okay._ Inhaling deeply Adrien slowly lifted his head to look at her texts, before letting a few chuckles slip through his exhale along with his buzzing nerves.

Mari [11:00] _On a scale of one to ten how screwed am I once those prints release_

Mari [11:02] _I know you can't show me anything but humor me, I'm having a dull day_

Adrien bit the inside of his cheek as he scrolled down through her texts some more and tried to not break down into a giggling fit. She'd sent him a picture of a poorly disguised mannequin that she had dressed up as Alya. Marinette was seen cradling it in her lap, captioned: when will my friend return from the war? That earned his phone a sad lopsided smile, and he ached for her. Adrien wondered how long the symptoms of the disease had been going on. Surely Alya would have noticed and spoken up about it by now, but she'd been away chasing her dreams—already fast into the world of journalism and criminal justice.

 _Marinette really_ was _bored today_ , he realized as he flipped through all the candid's she sent him. He stopped at another image of their mannequin companion, this time with an actual outfit of her own making. He'd seen the design before on their last outing with some friends from collège, and it was just as beautiful as he knew it would be even with all the pins holding the fabric in place. He knew talent when he saw it.

He mourned for her only briefly before scrolling past the memes Marinette poured into his inbox, reaching her last messages.

Mari [14:28] _You're probably super busy today, wow! I'm sorry for blowing up your phone. I didn't even realize, hahaha_

Mari [14:30] _Hey, Adrien… can you call me when you're off work? If not that's fine, no pressure. I just need to talk to you about something._

Yes, yes he could call her, in fact, Adrien was about to call her when suddenly he realized the time and his plans with his best friend.

 _Shit, Nino._

Backing out of Marinette's messages he went to see what his best friend had to say, all while spinning the wheel of excuses in his head. He wouldn't be lying if he said he had an important last-minute change in plans for work, right? Chat Noir practically doesn't sleep, so...

Nino [12:15] _there is a stupidly long line at this cafe and i have to be back to my shift in 15 minutes_

Nino [12:18 _] dude i think mari misses al, take a look at this — that mannequin looks terrible should I save this as blackmail_

Nino [12:18] _looks like alya brushed off on me oops_

Nino [12:25] _ohohoh !imnext in line let's hope my food gets out quickly_

Nino [15:36] _pro-tip: do not go to the old cafe across from collège françoise dupont... apparently they're under new management_

Nino [15:37] _also i was late getting back to work but so was my manager, this is the one time i will thank traffic_

Nino [16:49] _i take that back i still hate traffic, particularly tourist traffic, but today it's traffic traffic. now we're behind on deliveries because he was late and hes mad about it why did you let me work here_

Nino [16:49] _why did i let myself work here_

Nino [19:45] _so i've been on my feet all day and can hardly feel my legs… wait, i lied… i feel everything and everything hurts. can we play that game some other time? i know we've been looking forward to it but based on your lack of responses today i take it you're dead on your feet too_

Was Ladybug nearby? Was her luck rubbing off on him somehow?

Content that he didn't have to bail on his buddy again Adrien breathed a sigh of relief before shooting Nino a reply. Considering when he got the text, and what time it actually was, chances were that Nino was already dead to the world and off to sleepy time junction. He figured he wouldn't get an answer until morning which was just as well because as soon as he backed out of his texts with Nino he phoned Marinette.

Checking the time, he realized it was probably a little late for a call, 20:13, but let the tone ring until he heard the telltale signs of Marinette nearly dropping her phone — to which he was entertained with what he could only assume was her dive bombing the device and a loud "I'm okay!" to two amused parents down below.

" _Adrien! Hey, um—"_

"Hey Marinette! How are you feeling?" he intercepted a little too hastily, wincing when he realized he could have at least let her finish her greeting. She inhaled sharply and floundered for a moment before gathering herself.

" _I-I'm fine! Great, actually!"_ she laughed quietly, almost as an afterthought.

"Your cough was pretty bad over the weekend and I hadn't had a chance to see if those cough drops worked or not."

" _Oh!"_

Adrien wasn't sure if he was too happy about giving her that out but he'd be visiting her after this call anyways.

" _Right, right! Yeah, I'm, ah-heh, feeling better! Those cough drops sure were potent!"_ She tried passing her smile through her voice but he honestly couldn't buy her chipper attitude so late at night.

"Is that so? I'm so happy to hear that Mari, you've had me really worried."

" _Tha-Thank you, but really it's nothing major—"_

Liar.

"— _you're too sweet."_

There was a pause in the conversation where he was meant to reply but he was too busy pinching the bridge of his nose to say anything. He had a lot to say, but now wasn't the time. Fishing for something he recalled her text.

"So, Marinette, you wanted to talk with me? That text sounded pretty ominous—you're not planning on scrapping that dress, are you?" he gasped, "Alyaquin was looking killer today."

Instead of prying he tried to keep the conversation light, and his efforts were rewarded by her tinkling laughter. Adrien couldn't suppress the warmth that blossomed in his chest at the sound, a sound so familiar to him, that always made him feel better.

" _Oh, ah, right sorry. Um! Tomorrow! I wanted to know if tomorrow you and I could maybe meet up? To talk! It's kind of important and I don't think I should talk about it, you know, o-over the phone. If you can't talk tomorrow that's fine! Like it's more than fine, in fact—you know what—don't worry about it you were really busy today and you might want to rest tomorrow—"_

"Mari."

" _No no it's okay, I totally understand!"_

"Mari- _nette_."

With a squeak she quickly silenced herself.

"I would love to talk to you tomorrow, I think seeing you would be more than enough to make up for my crappy day today," he spoke softly, hoping his honestly bled through his voice enough to soothe her concerns, "Let me look at what I've got planned and I'll text you when I can meet ok?" If she wanted to talk about what was going on with her disease he would make sure she didn't talk her way out of not meeting him.

" _Yeah, uh, that would be great actually."_ she said, her voice matching his tone. As he was about to tell her goodnight a loud rush of static came from her end of the call. It petered in and out before he realized what he was hearing was the wind; she was outside.

"You shouldn't be hanging out on your balcony when just last week you were coughing up a lung." he chastised, which made her chuckle self-deprecatingly before clearing her throat. A little too late he realized the double meaning behind his words, and he was about two seconds away from finding out just how well he could speak with his foot in his mouth.

" _I have a stray that's been visiting me lately, and I was thinking he might show up tonight but so far he's staying hidden."_

Adrien opened and closed his mouth before realizing she was talking about Chat Noir and winced, a weak chuckle escaping his lips. "Perhaps he's a polite cat and is waiting for you to get off the phone?"

" _I think you two should meet sometime, he's a really sweet kitty,"_ she said fondly, her smile slipping through her voice, _"but I think you're right so I'm gonna hop off. Goodnight Adrien."_

He wished her a goodnight then ended the call. Plagg must have realized he'd be needed soon because one-minute Adrien was staring at his screen, the next a tiny kwami head was peeking his head through the device. He looked unimpressed as always but didn't offer much commentary, which Adrien was grateful for.

"We're gonna be leaving here after I send her that text, okay buddy?"

"Kid, don't you think you need a break?"

Adrien shook his head and fired off a text to Marinette to confirm their talk tomorrow, then messaged Nathalie to let her know he had plans. While he still lived under his father's roof and worked for Gabriel, he was allowed some additional freedom as he grew older. He just had to make sure Nathalie was notified of his plans so that his work wouldn't overlap, and besides—she knew what was going on with Marinette. She wouldn't deny him this.

"Marinette might tell me about the disease tomorrow, but if I'm going to help her I need to find the root cause of the problem—"

"Please don't tell me we're meddling in that girls love life," he groaned, rolling his eyes before closing them. Adrien just shrugged.

"—Okay, then I won't."

Instead, he called out his transformation, letting the feel of his suit wash over him before darting out of the estate and over rooftops. It hadn't been too long since he hung up so hopefully he hadn't missed her but, he told himself, if he found her asleep then he'd leave her alone. Chat wouldn't wake her up just to pry into her for information and upset her.

As he neared her rooftop he saw her leaning against the railing, looking out over the city. She saw him approaching and waved at him, earning her a toothy smile as he landed on her balcony, "Good evening, Princess."

"Chat Noir," she greeted, nodding her head once in acknowledgment.

"It's gonna get cold tonight, are you sure you should be out right now?"

She rolled her eyes at him good-naturedly before stepping away and sitting on her lounger. Chat's eyes wandered from her to the table of treats she had set out, but most importantly to the steaming mugs _— mugs!_ —of cocoa. His heart warmed at the sight, a dopey smile taking over his features before looking back to her.

"I thought you'd come, which is good that you did because I wanted to talk to you."

Oh?

"Have a seat," she smiled back at him, patting the space next to her. He complied with her wishes, handing her a mug and then holding his own, "I need to apologize for last night…"

Shaking his head, he looked her in the eye and said, "There's no reason to be sorry Marinette—"

"That must have been terrifying to see though… and I really hate that you had to see it!"

"—I'm a big boy, and I don't know about you but I've seen some pret- ty scary things in the last few years," he quipped, taking a sip while staring her down. They were not about to have this argument, because he _would_ win this one. It seemed she realized this and backed down, sighing before taking a sip of her own cocoa. "But that can't be all you wanted to talk about, is it."

He knew it wasn't all she wanted to say to him. An apology didn't require all the food she'd laid out for them to snack on, she clearly was hoping he'd be there for a while. What with her hiding her face behind her mug and shrugging her shoulders he could only confirm that assumption. Marinette gnawed on her lip, causing it to flush a lovely shade of red—he realized, in the low light, that she was becoming increasingly pale. Taking another sip of his cocoa, he waited for her to speak—

"Kitty, have you ever loved anyone?"

—only to promptly choke on the delicious drink.

 _Taking a sip right then was probably a bad idea._ Chat cleared his throat before setting the mug down on the table to avoid death by chocolate so early in their conversation. She had the decently to look sheepish, patting his back gently while he composed himself.

"Sorry."

"No, no, it's fine I just—I haven't been asked that in a long time."

He recalled the last time they had a heartfelt conversation on love he'd whisked her away to Notre Dame, all to show her the date he planned for Ladybug. "You know the answer to that question though."

Marinette pursed her lips, looking off to the side. She drummed her fingers against the side of her mug, "That was so long ago."

"Yeah, but I was serious at the time. I still am!" he declared pressing his fingertips to his chest in a display of honesty, "There will always be a special place in my heart for my lady, she was my first love after all. But I know without a doubt that she and I will always remain friends, no matter what happens between us. I value her friendship more than anything, so I've since stopped prying into her personal life… she wants distance, and so I gave that to her."

Talking about it brought up buried emotions he hadn't been able to properly talk out in ages. There was a phantom ache that he was easily able to overlook, however. He meant every word he said. They managed to keep their partnership intact after his confession all those years ago, and he had honestly stopped pursuing her. She was the best thing that happened to him, and he wouldn't take her trust in him and squander it with his romantic endeavors.

Looking up from the ground he saw her smiling fondly at him from over her mug, causing him to realize he'd just laid his heart open a little too much to a civilian. But her smile, while it was sincere, it was bittersweet. She knew what he went through… and he knew what she was going through right now. How he felt then was as close as he was going to get to understand her in the present. Chat hesitantly smiled back at, but her responding wink caused his face to warm underneath the mask. Averting his eyes, he suddenly became invested in his shoes.

 _If he was blushing nobody could prove anything, it was late and her balcony had poor lighting._

Trying to get the proverbial spotlight off him he deflected by asking, "So what about you?"

It was her turn to cough on her cocoa, at least he hoped it was the cocoa, and he instantly regretted everything horrible he'd ever done ever. Smooth one, Noir, _smooth_. Leaning over he soothed her as best he could by rubbing her back, rapidly firing off apologies under his breath while she got hers under control.

"I, ah, well—! I mean, yes? Yes _obviously_ , duh, of _course_." she laughed, dismissing her flub with a wave of her hand. Suddenly he was fifteen again watching Marinette prove that yes you can, in fact, talk with your foot in your mouth. He figured she would get that under control with age, but old habits die hard. "I… he… w-we hang out together a lot—"

Chat had something to say about that but figured he would wait until she was finished before interrupting.

"—well, we try to anyways… he makes time where he can but sometimes our schedules don't match up. The pains of growing up and working part-time, right? Anyways, I thought that I was in love with him back in _collège_ …"

"Oh wow, that's a long time."

"Yeah, we've known each other for a while. Unfortunately, we only became close friends over the last couple years, but like I said… I thought that I was in love with him back in _collège_ , and so because of that, I thought I was safe. That the disease wouldn't show in me," she sighed, setting the mug down and folding her knees under her chin as she got more situated, "but these last few months have seemed to prove me wrong."

Chat's heart went out to her and he was filing all the information away for later so that he could maybe try and find whoever it was she loved… and hopefully he makes good on his promise by making himself a half-decent cupid, "So you only really fell for him recently."

"Yep."

They both sighed and looked at each other in response, chuckling in unison before he pulled her to his side. He gnawed on a cookie as he tried processing some of the information she just told him. Now, he wouldn't peg himself as stupid but he's been told he's really dense. There's something familiar tickling the back of his mind. It's like he knows who she's talking about but he won't be able to really do anything with her information until later. For now, he'd continue to hold her against him and whether or not it was a comfort to him or her he couldn't be sure, but it was getting late and he really should consider letting her sleep.

"Hey… Chat?" her voice was quiet, raspy as though she may have been falling asleep on him. He hummed in response, carding his fingers through her inky tresses once more before looking at her. "There's something else that I wanted to talk to you about, something important."

"What is it, Mari?"

She adjusted herself so that she was still pressed against his side but looking straight up at him.

"I'd been debating for a while if I should tell you, and I honestly don't know how to say it. It's kind of heavy." Chat tried to take her seriously, and he was—honestly! —but he began to shake as he tried to hold in his laughter; everything they'd been talking about the last couple nights had been _heavy_.

"I'm all ears, Princess."

Smiling, she gently swatted at his chest in retaliation when she realized what exactly he was laughing about. But as she began speaking again she was interrupted by several loud eruptions coming from the other side of the park. Car alarms went off and what he could only describe as a banshee's wail caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. Chat looked back to Marinette with a frown before schooling his expression. There was an akuma on the loose, duty calls.

With a firm nod, he promised her, "Later."


End file.
